Half A Person
by coloursflyaway
Summary: Can I do nothing to keep you here', he asks, desperation prominent in his eyes as fingers tug violently on dark, silken locks. You want to reach out and take his hands into yours to stop him.


‚Can I do nothing to keep you here?', he asks, desperation prominent in his eyes as fingers tug violently on dark, silken locks. You want to reach out and take his hands into yours to stop him (you can see it hurt, it has to hurt, and you can't bear it) but you refrain from doing it, knowing that this way you're keeping him from greater harm. So you turn around, the sneer already in place and hope he doesn't see past it as you think of everything you hate and do your best to look at him with disgust in your stare. It's hard, but you must've succeeded, since he winces and unconsciously takes a step back, his hands moving from his hair so he can wrap long, thin arms around his own frame, jut like you have held him the night before.

You know exactly what he is thinking, can almost hear it, but there is no way you can sooth him now.

With all your might you force yourself to look away and to think of dragons ripping him apart. Because this is what you've got to keep him from, no matter what it takes.

'What on earth could you offer me so I'd want to stay?', you say through gritted teeth, each word hurting you as it leaves your tongue.

You think of gryphons, with their blade-like claws tearing the flesh from his bones.

'I love you', he whispers, voice fragile and broken and the moonlight makes the tears which have gathered in the corners of his eyes glisten. By now, his gaze doesn't linger on you anymore, instead he's looking straight at the floor in front of your feet as if he cannot bear your image anymore. He has placed so much trust in you, more than you thought was possible, and that's what he gets.

'You love me?, you ask mockingly, but even to yourself your tone sounds a bit softer now. You think of wizards casting spells that make him burn alive until there's nothing more than ashes left and continue, 'And that's supposed to be enough? Half of Camelot loves me. You're nothing special.'

A tear makes its way down his cheek and you want to kiss it away; his slim form starts shaking at the harshness of your words and you want to hold him tight and tell him everything's going to be fine.

'They don't know you. How could they love you?', he asks weakly.

'And you know me? Then tell me about myself, Merlin, go on. Show me you're better than any girl, any guy I could pick off the streets.' Your throat feels dry and you can feel the bile rising in your throat as your words hit him so hard he stumbles backwards. Almost you reach out to hold him, but instead you dig your nails into your palms, feeling them slicing into your flesh. It hurts and it's good because after making him feel this way you deserve this and much more.

You think of armed soldier's slicing him to pieces and wish your eyes wouldn't burn so much with unshed tears.

He works up the courage to look up to you again and you have to think of ogres breaking his spine like a twig to keep yourself from rushing over and embracing him as you see the pain within his eyes.

'I do know you', he replies so softly you can barely hear him, 'Because I never left your side, no matter if there were dark wizards or dragons or armies of undead soldiers in front of us. And I know my love is special because even then I knew there was no place I'd be happier than at your side.'

While speaking, he's taken a step towards you again, and you curse whoever god might listen, because if he comes any closer he'll be able to make out the tears which you dare not wipe away, for you fear he might see and draw the right conclusions.

'And I just can't believe you never felt it too, that there is a special bond between us, that we are meant to be', hidden beneath the pain, the vulnerability, the tears, there is a spark showing and you're once again reminded that he is far stronger, far more powerful than he appears to be at first.

'Meant to be? Well, yes, but only because my father made you my servant. There's nothing romantic behind it. Believe me, it could've been anyone, and most of them would've been better than you.'

You have to think of giant spiders wrapping them in silk, just to suck out his blood afterwards to keep your voice steady and of wildren feeding on his flesh to uphold the pretence that you don't care about him the slightest.

What you have said must have struck particularly deep, because he draws a shaky breath, and this time, it is not one single tear sliding down his face, it's dozens.

'But…', he whispers, voice trailing of, 'I thought…'  
>'You thought? What a surprise. I didn't know you had that in you.'<br>'I thought you loved me just as much as I love you.'

And suddenly he closes the gap between the two of you, quicker than you can possibly move away and lifts his hand up to your cheek.

You think of serkets pumping him full of poison and leaving him to die, bandits brutally slaughtering him for being the prince's servant, gargoyles using him to sharpen their claws and cockatrices feeding him to their offspring.

It doesn't help though, because as soon as his fingertips touch your skin, he lets out a gasp, and he is so close now you can see his forehead wrinkle in confusion.

'You're crying', he whispers, and there is nothing you can say, for it's true and both of you know it, 'Why?'

For a moment you frantically search your brain for a lie sounding plausible enough for him to believe, but you know there is none. And in the one second you don't concentrate on carefully controlling your actions, your body acts on its own account and before you have realized what you are doing you have pulled him into an earth-shattering kiss.

It's desperate, harsh and intense, but it's nothing less than brilliant, because you'd have never thought to feel this again.

When you finally break apart, both panting so hard it feels like your lungs are exploding, he gasps out a breathless, 'I don't understand.'

You don't answer until you're able to talk breath again, and instead try to order your thoughts, to explain. It doesn't help though.

'I need to keep you safe and as long as you're with me you aren't', you finally say and refuse to look at him. He understands what you want to say, you know it because he always does and that's just one reason why you have fallen for him so completely.

There is a long silence and you try to think of something terrible happening to him, but you can't, since he's so close you can feel the warmth radiating from him and it's too much to take.

And then the room is suddenly illuminated by some strange light and you look up only to see a small flame dancing in his hand. There is nothing you can say, so instead you bring your hand closer to it and feel its heat, see how it flickers and changes and there is no doubt in your mind that it's real. It's magic, and you find that you are not the least bit scared of it.

'I don't need protecting', he says softly, quietly, and his words feel like a caress, 'I can do that on my own. But you need me at your side, to keep you from all the wizards and dragons and armies of dead. Because I need to keep _you_ safe. That's what I was born for.'

The fire changes, turns silver and into a butterfly, sitting on his hand for a moment before taking flight, splitting into dozens upon dozens while doing so, all dancing around you and it's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. When you look back at him, there's love in his eyes, more than you can even begin to comprehend. You fall into his arms and think that you should've known much sooner, because he has shown you each and every day that he and everything he does is magic.

He holds you close and you smile, because you know he does the same thing and because he was right. You really are meant to be.


End file.
